


Blue Plate Special and a slice of pie

by seren_ccd



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-14
Updated: 2013-12-14
Packaged: 2018-01-04 15:09:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1082483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seren_ccd/pseuds/seren_ccd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Corbin didn’t drag me in here just the once you know.  I didn’t follow the straight and narrow right off the bat.  He’d pull me in here, order a slice of pie and wait me out.  I spent a lot of time staring at that placemat, believe me.”  Five times Abbie and Ichabod visited the diner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blue Plate Special and a slice of pie

**Author's Note:**

  * For [seimaisin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seimaisin/gifts).



> This was actually written before episode 10 aired, therefore this goes AU after episode 9 and is my take on potential events and conversations. Massive thanks go to my amazing beta!

**1 BPS w/mp, ccob, crts  
** 1 CB w/fr  
1 pot cfe  
2 sl pie 

Abbie slumped in her chair and stared blankly at the report she was meant to be filling in. Her mind was having a very hard time creating a description alternative to ‘A demon that was mostly likely the third horseman of the apocalypse, namely Famine, wreaked havoc amongst a local congregation by causing their bodies to waste away to practically nothing. By the way, this officer of the law has no concrete proof that could explain _anything_ that has occurred in the last three months.’

She groaned under her breath and squeezed her eyes shut.

“I take that sound of exasperation to mean that you are having difficulty putting the events of the last few evenings into words?”

Abbie looked over at Crane who looked far too sympathetic for Abbie’s liking. Sympathy led to pity and Abbie did not do pity. She straightened up and just said, “Clearly I should have paid more attention in English and learned how to write fiction instead of facts.”

“Ah.” Crane sat down in what had become his customary chair angled close to hers. “Yes, the art of obfuscation is one that must be learned. It does not come easily to those of us who prefer to deal with facts and evidence.”

Abbie gave him a look. He waved a hand. “Just because I’m willing to keep an open mind does not mean that I miss dealing with matters that are undeniably commonplace as opposed to those that require…an absence of skepticism.”

“Meaning you’re as weirded out by what’s going on as I am? Good to know,” Abbie said. She rubbed her eyes.

“I often found that change of place could help me when I was having difficulties with my studies,” Crane said. He glanced around the station. “Is there nowhere else we could retire to?”

She dropped her hands from her face and stared up at the ceiling. Her mind touched on her own home or the break room or even the basement, but none of those were appealing. Her stomach growled and she pressed her hand to her mid-section hoping to stifle the sound. By the smirk on Crane’s face, it didn’t work. 

“I am also quite famished,” he said. “Appropriate given the last mystical encounter, wouldn’t you say? Should we visit one of your Starbucks?”

“No,” Abbie said shaking her head. “I’m not in the mood for over-priced coffee and brownies that don’t actually fill you up.”

“Well, then, what _are_ you…in the mood for?” he asked.

 _A cheeseburger, fries and a slice of pie_ , her mind immediately supplied. Abbie frowned. She hadn’t been to the diner since the night Corbin died. It hadn’t felt…right.

She looked up at Crane and he looked right back at her with that expectant look of his that made her want to roll her eyes and then laugh.

“Come on,” she said getting to her feet and grabbing her jacket. “We’re going to get fries.”

“Are we ordering through the drive-thru again?” he asked as he followed her out of the station. “While eating in the car has its own brand of charm, I confess I prefer to sit at a table.”

“Don’t worry,” Abbie said. “Where we’re going even has forks made out of metal.”

“How terribly novel,” he said sarcastically.

They rode along in silence until they reached the diner and Crane leaned forward.

“Is this the diner you spoke of? The one where you made your life-altering choice?” he asked.

“That’s the one,” Abbie said with more enthusiasm than she actually felt. God, just seeing the place made her miss Corbin like nuts. She fully expected to see him sitting down, drinking some coffee and reading his paper and the fact that he wasn’t… She almost turned the car back on and drove away, but Crane stopped her.

“We can go somewhere else, Miss Mills,” he said quietly, understanding clear in his eyes.

Abbie shook her head. “I really want some fries. Come on.”

They walked into the diner and Abbie nodded at a few folks, but there weren’t many seated. She instinctively headed towards the usual table and sat down, Crane sliding onto the seat across from her. He sat very straight and tall and Abbie grinned.

She grabbed a menu. “Have a look,” she said. “But it’s all pretty good.”

“Thank you,” he said taking the menu and looking it over. He frowned. “What is a ‘Blue Plate Special’?”

“It’s a meat and three,” Abbie said starting to smile. “The Blue Plate Special achieved popularity during the 1920s when diners became more commonplace. A Blue Plate Special is a low-priced daily diner special: a main course with all the fixin’s. A piece of meat with gravy and three vegetables presented on a blue-colored plate in neat sections.”

Crane stared at her, then said, “How fascinating. Why blue?”

Abbie grinned. “No idea. All I know is what I got off the placemat.” She nodded at the paper placemat in front of him. He peered down at it, read the short blurb on Blue Plates and then looked up at her. 

She shrugged. “Corbin didn’t drag me in here just the once you know. I didn’t follow the straight and narrow right off the bat. He’d pull me in here, order a slice of pie and wait me out. I spent a lot of time staring at that placemat, believe me.”

The corner of his mouth quirked up. “Nevertheless, it is an interesting fact. I believe I shall order the Blue Plate.”

“I think it’s meatloaf,” Abbie said. “You won’t regret it. But don’t let them sucker you into thinking the secret sauce is anything other than ketchup and vinegar.”

“I will bow to your superior knowledge of the subject,” he said.

“Damn straight,” she said grinning at Maddie who came over with a smile on her face.

“Good to see you, Abbie,” she said warmly. “Been far too long, honey.”

“I know,” she said nodding. She glanced at Crane. “Maddie, this is my partner, Professor Ichabod Crane. He’s consulting with the department on some cases and he’s never had meatloaf before. I figured the only place to start would be yours.”

Maddie beamed. “Lovely to meet you, professor. Would you be wanting mashed potatoes and carrots with your meatloaf?”

“Indeed, I would,” he said giving her the smile that seemed to charm pretty much every woman in a ten-foot radius. “I look forward to sampling your recipe; I hear it’s the best in several counties.”

“Oh, heavens, you put that face away, young man,” Maddie said laughing and swatting him on the shoulder. “Abbie, what’ll you have?”

“Cheeseburger with everything, fries and a pot of coffee for the table, please,” she said. 

“Coming right up, honey.” She patted Abbie on the shoulder and started to move away, but hesitated. She turned back and put her hand on Abbie’s arm. “We miss him, too, Abbie. Don’t you be a stranger again, okay?”

Abbie felt her throat tighten and she pursed her lips together and nodded sharply. “I won’t,” she managed.

Maddie nodded and walked off to the kitchen. Abbie took a deep breath and looked out the window into the night. She noticed Crane looking at her in the reflection. She smiled. 

“I’m good, Crane,” she said eventually.

“Yes, you are, lieutenant,” he said softly. “I thank you for bringing me here.”

“You’re welcome,” she said. “It’s about time I got you caught up on all things American. Next up, baseball.”

* * *

**2 pots cfe**

Abbie was dimly aware of the fact that Crane was carrying her in his arms. It occurred to her that she should probably say something, but the fact that she couldn’t breathe was overriding any other concern she might have had.

She tried to suck in a gasp, but her lungs had just stopped, she could feel a painful tightness in her chest and it crept up her throat and burned her nose and her eyes watered.

The demon they’d been fighting had been impervious to bullets (of course) and she just hadn’t been fast enough. Whatever it threw at her had exploded into dust on contact and turned the breath in her lungs to cement and she’d fallen once it hit.

Crane had yelled something and then she was in his arms and he was running. Her vision narrowed as a black haze edged in and when he pushed them past the doors to the diner, the bright lights stung and she grabbed his coat.

“I need coffee!” he shouted, his voice dim in her ears even though she knew he was shouting. “As hot and strong as you can make it. Quickly!”

He settled Abbie on the counter, propping her upright, her back to his chest; her head rolled on his shoulder.

“Oh my God! Abbie!” Maddie’s voice sounded far away and Abbie gripped Crane’s coat tighter as she tried to breathe.

Her vision was going and she felt him holding something to her mouth, but she couldn’t smell what it was and everything hurt and it was getting darker and the pain in her chest was so heavy.

“--now! Breathe, damn you!” Crane shouted directly into her ear.

Abbie opened her mouth and hot liquid poured in. The heat startled her and she choked on the coffee as she finally managed to suck in a breath. The coffee burned her tongue, but air was moving into her and her lungs kicked in and she got in a few breaths. Her eyes started to clear and then she started to cough.

And cough.

 _And cough_.

When she’d finally coughed up what-the hell-ever that thing had thrown at her, she shakily leaned back and tried to simply breathe.

“You’re fine, Abbie,” Crane’s voice said next to her ear. She realized that he must have held her throughout the whole thing

“Yeah,” she croaked. She glanced down at the plastic mixing bowl in her lap filled with all the stuff that had been in her lungs and grimaced. “That sucked.”

“It did indeed,” he said, smoothing a hand over her brow.

Abbie glanced at Maddie who was standing close by. “Sorry, Maddie.”

“Oh, honey, shut up,” she said breathlessly. “Don’t you worry. I’m just glad y’all were close by.”

Abbie nodded and noticed Carlos from the kitchen was watching them from the entrance to the kitchen. “Sorry about the mess, Carlos.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said shrugging. “I worked at the hospital before here. Seen worse.”

“Oh, good,” Abbie said cringing as she tried to sit up, every muscle screaming out as she swung her legs over the counter.

“Easy, lieutenant,” Crane said as he helped her down. Her legs almost gave way, but she was proud of herself for not falling flat on her face.

She walked slowly over to a booth and sat down gingerly. Then she looked up at Crane and gave him a small grin. “I really want to send that thing back where it came from.”

“I most heartily concur,” he said sitting down heavily across from her. “Maddie, more of your life-saving coffee, please.” He looked at Abbie. “I want you to drink an entire cup of coffee; it will help your breathing. Then I want you to eat an entire bowl of soup which will give you your strength back.”

“And then can we go deal with that thing?” Abbie asked.

“Yes.”

“Okay, then.”

She closed her eyes and just let herself breathe in and out for several minutes. When she opened her eyes, Crane had his own eyes shut and she saw the furrows in his brow.

“Crane,” she said softly.

His eyes opened immediately and met hers.

“Thank you,” she said.

“You’re most welcome, lieutenant.”

* * *

**1 pot cfe**

Abbie led the way into the diner and just called out to Maddie, “Just a pot of coffee, please.”

“You got it, Abbie,” she said nodding at her.

Abbie slid into the booth and Crane followed suit on the other side. Abbie rubbed her face with both hands and tried to get the image of Andy popping his own jaw back into place out of her head.

It wasn’t shifting.

She glanced at Crane and he was just staring at the place mat in front of him.

“So I’m gonna go ahead and register my complaint about a woman being treated as an object of some dude’s manpain,” Abbie said after Maddie had dropped a carafe of coffee by their table.

Ichabod tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. “I take that to mean you are disgusted at the fact that my wife is being used as a champion piece for someone’s reward.”

“Pretty much, yeah,” Abbie said pouring herself a cup.

“Duly noted. I find that I am also taking umbrage at that fact,” he said an edge creeping into his voice. “Shall we discuss Officer Brooks’ unrequited feelings towards you?”

“No, we shall not.” Abbie gulped down a mouthful of coffee and tried to act like she hadn’t just burned the roof of her mouth. 

Ichabod just stared at her. She set her mug on the table and looked him in the eye.

“When I first went through the police academy, it was hard,” Abbie said. “People knew my record and they were just waiting for me to screw up. But Andy was different. He was...cool. Nice. He just took me as I was and he never made me feel like I was a mistake waiting to happen.” 

“An ally,” he said thoughtfully.

“Yeah, exactly. He was a good guy and we’d geek out together over the same stuff,” she said. She paused and sighed. “You know, he’d do this thing where he’d stare off into space. Like he was waiting for something. Or…”

“Listening for something?” Crane suggested softly.

“Yeah.” Abbie spun her mug around in her hands. “We’d hang out sometimes, watch a ball game, or bad sci-fi movie. The last time we hung out was-” Abbie stopped cold. “Oh, son of a bitch.”

“I beg your pardon?” Crane leaned forward

“We went to a gun show about six months back,” Abbie said, all sympathy for Andy quickly dissipating into anger. “He wanted to see what one was like and we went and looked at automatic machine guns. I told him which models were the best because their recoil was minimal and oh, my _God_.”

“Abbie-“

“I helped him outfit your boy,” Abbie said her voice rising as she sat back in the booth, her eyes wide. “How messed up is that?”

“I suspect that Officer Brooks would have outfitted the Horseman with or without your help,” Crane said evenly

“Yeah, but I made sure he knew what the best options were.” She rubbed her face again. “I am such a chump.” She groaned as another thought occurred to her. “God, was it because of this?” She gestured at them both. “Was that why he was a friend to me? Because some demon _told_ him to be? How the hell is this my life?”

“After the events of the last few weeks, your supposition is entirely possible,” he said slowly, looking uncomfortable.

“Jesus.” She sat up straight. “Could I have stopped him? Could I have changed his mind? Maybe if I’d talked to him more.”

“And said what, perchance? Pardon me, Officer Brooks, but when you stare into space are you by chance, communicating with a demon that terrorized myself and my sister and is planning to bring about the end of days?”

Abbie paused. “Yeah, that would have gone over well.” She sighed. “Or maybe it would have.”

“You can hardly blame yourself for Brooks’ actions,” Crane said pouring her another cup. “He made those choices of his own free will and you cannot hold yourself responsible for them.”

Abbie looked at him. “Oh, really? If that’s the case, then the same goes for you. No guilt-tripping yourself over Abraham.”

“It is hardly the same-“ he started to say.

“Yes, it is,” Abbie said as she held up her hand. “Look. You were honest with him. He’s the one who took it badly. He didn’t need to draw his sword. That’s on him. Not you. So, take your own advice. If I don’t get to feel guilty over Andy, you don’t get to feel guilty over the Horseman. Deal?”

Crane fidgeted and then nodded. “We have an accord, Lieutenant.”

He held out his hand, Abbie shook it and felt a tiny weight lift off her shoulders. She managed a small, tired smile that he returned.

“Get you two another pot?” Maddie asked as she passed by.

“Oh, do you know, I think I’m rather hungry,” Crane said rubbing his mid-section.

“Me too,” Abbie said chuckling. “What’s the special today?”

“Country-fried steak with gravy, peas, mashed potatoes and corn on the cob,” Maddie said.

“Sold,” Abbie said leaning back in the booth.

“I concur. Maddie, would you procure us two Blue Plate Specials?” Crane asked

“Honey, I’ll procure you anything you want if you keep talking to me with that accent of yours,” she said tapping her notepad on his shoulder and winking at him.

Abbie grinned while Crane blushed and when Maddie had headed towards the kitchen, Abbie said, “You know, I don’t think it was only in the 18th century that you had game.”

The look he gave her was both sly and delighted.

**1 pot cfe +  
2 BPS w/fixin’s**

* * *

**3 sl pie (2 blueb, 1 chry)**

Abbie left the precinct quickly, hurriedly checking her messages for something from Crane. She’d left him in the library still looking shell-shocked from the revelations from the haunted house. He’d perked up a bit during their Thanksgiving dinner and even complimented Jenny on her dry turkey and canned cranberry sauce, but his mood had gone back down over the last few days. She hated leaving him on his own, but she had to go to the full precinct staff meeting after missing the last four or Irving was going to have her head. (They’d both grimaced after he said that out loud.)

She’d headed straight for the library, but he hadn’t been there. He hadn’t been at her desk, either and no one remembered seeing him leave. Getting into her car, she found the message she’d been hoping to hear.

“Dear Lieutenant Mills,

I hope this audible missive finds you well and that your staff meeting was not the onerous ‘snooze-fest’, as you put it, that you expected it to be. Rest assured that I am well and there is no need to search for me. I found I required a change of scenery and therefore I am at the diner. 

Please know that I am, as ever, most grateful for your enduring concern, but I am well and do not wish to inconvenience you.

Yours, most respectfully,  
Ichabod Crane”

She hung up and rolled her eyes, then made the turn towards the diner. “Not going to let you sulk and brood on your own,” she muttered. “That never leads to anything good. Big, tall, idiot.”

She pulled into the parking lot and spotted his still profile in the window immediately. Abbie sighed and got out of her car, then went inside. He never raised his eyes to hers, but she knew he knew she was there. She smiled at Maddie who raised an interrogative brow at her. Abbie just nodded and pointed at the cherry pie on display. Maddie nodded back and raised up a pot of coffee in question. Abbie nodded again, vigorously, this time.

Then she slid into the booth across from Crane. Still not looking at her and instead studying the melting ice cream on top of his pie, he said, “You did not need to come, Miss Mills.”

“I know,” she said. 

“I’m not particularly fit for company,” he continued.

“That’s fine. I’m not here for fit company,” she said smiling at Maddie who set her pie down in front of her along with a mug and a pot of coffee. “Thanks, Maddie.”

“Sure thing, Abbie.” Maddie patted her shoulder and headed back to the kitchen.

Abbie poured herself some coffee and then got out her tablet and started typing. Every now and then she took a bite of her pie.

She noticed him looking at her after a couple of minutes had gone by. She looked back at him.

“Why are you here?” he asked, sounding curious.

“Because you’re my partner and my friend, and right now you do not need to be alone,” she said simply. “So, you just sit there and think about whatever you need to think about and I’m going to wallow in being related to someone pretty darn badass for the next couple of bites, then I’m going to attempt to explain to Wanda in Acquisitions why I’m not returning an axe to her because it’s still stuck in the skull of a monster made out of roots, without _telling_ her its stuck in the skull of a monster made out of roots.”

He nodded. “I wish you all the luck in your endeavor.”

Abbie held up her fork and inclined her head. Then she went back to eating and trying to come up with a way to ask for another two axes without explaining precisely why. 

She was almost done with her pie when he said softly, “I wonder what she called him.”

Abbie looked up.

“My son,” Crane said in that same low voice. “I wonder what his name is.”

“Did you two ever talk about it before?” Abbie asked, matching her tone to his. “Ichabod, Junior, maybe?”

He chuckled. “No. I wasn’t about to bestow that burden on another person. No, we considered Martin or Abigail, for a girl. Katrina’s father was called Thomas and that always sounded like a good strong name.”

“Thomas Crane,” Abbie said nodding. “I like it.”

He smiled briefly and then closed his eyes as though he was in pain. “Why did she not tell me? Why do I not _know_ where he is? Or what happened to him?”

Abbie put her fork down and leaned forward. “Look, this is so not my place, but from what you’ve said, Katrina sounds like she was extremely competent and resourceful. She made sure you’d come back from the _dead_. I think that in the case of your child, she was going to be pretty darn thorough and there was no way she was going to hide him anywhere less than safe and secure. Right?”

He nodded. “Katrina knew how to protect those she loved. She would not fail her own child. Once again, you are the voice of reason.”

“Voice of reason, my butt,” Abbie said picking her fork back up. “It’s just making me sad seeing the way you’ve neglected that slice of pie. You know Maddie’s blueberry pie is perfection.”

“I’ve been horribly remiss, you’re quite right.” He lifted his head and smiled at her, then looked over at Maddie. “Another slice, if you wouldn’t mind, Maddie?”

“You got it, professor,” Maddie called.

“Would you like some assistance in your obfuscation to Acquisitions?” Crane asked Abbie, his voice lighter, even though the sadness lingered in his eyes.

“Yes, please,” she said gratefully. “What’s another word for weird-ass root monster?”

* * *

**2 Xmas BPS w/all fixin’s  
** 2 eggnogs  
2 sl pie (on hold) 

“While we certainly celebrated Yuletide in the past, the sheer amount of...color is most...impressive,” Crane said as they drove along the brightly lit houses on their way to the diner.

“I think the word you’re looking for is ‘tacky’,” Abbie said making a face.

“Not a fan of the holidays, I take it,” Crane replied.

“Like ‘em just fine,” Abbie said, “but you’ve seen one set of blown-up Santa and his reindeers dancing to Jingle Bells, you’ve seen them all.”

“I inclined to agree. The commercial aspect of the season is quite overwhelming, I have not quite gotten over the existence of a Black Friday,” he said. “Is an entire month of ‘sales’ truly required?”

“Probably not,” Abbie said pulling into the diner’s parking lot. “I should warn you, Maddie goes a bit overboard on the decorations.”

Crane narrowed his eyes and peered forward. “Are there St Nicholas’s on every table? And are they dancing?”

“Yes. Yes, they are.” Abbie snickered. “However, she has the best mincemeat pie in the world and she actually roasts chestnuts, so if you want good food, I’m afraid you’re going to have to deal with the Santas.”

He frowned. “The things I will endure for decent cooking.”

They got out of the car and Abbie’s phone rang. She glanced down and sighed. “It’s Gladys from accounting. I think she needs to yell at me over some requisition forms; you go on in.”

Crane inclined his head. “Shall I order for you?”

Abbie nodded and answered the phone; while Crane went inside. Fifteen minutes later, Abbie walked inside, stomped the snow off her boots and sat down across from Crane.

She grabbed the cup of coffee he poured for her with both hands and sipped gratefully.

“Is Gladys appeased?” he asked, poking the jiggling Santa and making all sorts of faces at it.

“Nope, but she never is when it comes to requisition forms,” Abbie said. She glanced around and grimaced. “I am pretty darn sure that all these lights are a fire hazard.” 

“It is most festive,” he said.

“Darn right, it’s festive,” Maddie said cheerfully, setting their plates down in front of them. “No mocking my Christmas cheer or I’m taking the food back to the kitchen and giving it to Carlos.”

Abbie held up her hands. “Not saying a word, Maddie.”

“I believe the addition of the Santas on every table to be a wonderful commemoration of the season,” Crane said earnestly.

Maddie narrowed her eyes at him, but he just gazed back at her without a hint of guile. “Hmm,” she said, her mouth twitching towards a smile. “You all eat up.”

“Thanks, Maddie,” Abbie said grinning at Crane.

They ate quickly and quietly and were contemplating pie when Abbie’s phone rang. She groaned. “I swear, if Gladys argues over my need to have a spare Glock, I will not be held responsible for my actions.”

Crane chuckled and sipped his coffee.

“Mills,” Abbie answered the phone. She frowned. “It’s doing what? Okay. We’re on our way.”

She hung up and looked at Crane. “Apparently, something is sprinkling ashes on various graves in the cemetery and Dispatch thought of us.”

“How kind of them,” he said rising to his feet. “We shall have to return later; I wish to have a slice of pie.”

Abbie grinned and threw some money on the counter and waved at Maddie as they headed towards the door.

“Hey! Don’t the two of you dare think you aren’t going to go along with tradition,” Maddie called after them.

Abbie and Crane looked at her in confusion. She pointed at the ceiling above their heads. They looked up.

“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” Abbie muttered staring at the sprig of mistletoe.

“Is there nothing that cannot be made from plastic?” Crane asked staring at the garnish in wonder.

“No,” Abbie said. She glared at Maddie. “Not gonna happen, Maddie.”

“Don’t be such a Grinch, lay one on him!” she called back.

Abbie rolled her eyes. “He’s married.”

“You don’t have to use tongue,” Maddie retorted.

“Oh, my God.” Abbie rubbed her forehead.

Crane cleared his throat. “Traditionally, the mistletoe was hung as a symbol of peace and love. If two enemies met under the mistletoe they would lay down their arms and reside in peace until the following day.” He cleared his throat again, a faint flush appearing in his cheeks. “It is also considered good luck when partners are joined beneath it, and the kiss that traditionally follows is a celebration of love.”

Abbie gave him a look and he simply smiled.

“It is tradition, Miss Mills, and I am not one to completely disregard the potential for an extra piece of luck on our side,” he said softly.

“We can probably use all of it we can get,” Abbie said starting to grin herself.

“Well, then.”

She looked up, all the way up, to meet his eyes that softened and she felt some of her tension leave her. Crane he leaned down and because this was a partnership, she leaned up. Their lips met briefly, but firmly and Abbie had a moment where the insides of her stomach whirled and danced and then she lowered her heels and their lips parted.

Ichabod stared at her for a moment and she felt her cheeks heat up.

“Merry Christmas, Crane,” she said softly

“Merry Christmas, lieutenant,” he replied just as softly. 

Abbie’s phone rang and she rolled her eyes as she answered. “Mills. It’s what now? Yes, we’re on our way.”

She hung up. “Whatever it is, it’s now digging up the graves.”

“Charming,” he said opening the door for her. Crane turned to Maddie who was grinning madly and said, “Would you be so kind as to save us two slices of pie?” He glanced at Abbie who grinned at him. “I’m certain we shall be back.”

The door closed behind them, the bell ringing out cheerfully in their wake.


End file.
